Dim Lights
by HarleyHart
Summary: If you're meant to be a killer, you're meant to be a killer. You have to accept the fact that you are not allowed the luxury of friends or family. Unless their demons play well with yours. Jeff the Killer, OC. Rated M for a reason, may contain smut later on. Violence is a given. Don't be a prat.


**AN: This is just a little something that's wormed its way into my head during my long hours at work. It might go somewhere, it may not. As of now, Razor Smiles is on hiatus, for those that are curious. This will not tie in and is more of a side project. I'm facing writer's block again, unfortunately. There are so many different ways I can go with the chapter and I can't make up my mind. So, have this and maybe a few drabbles and other fanfictions until then. Please enjoy. **

Jeff was tired. He was tired and bloody and in desperate need of a shower. Perhaps it was time for him to take a bit of a break from his running. His last victim's apartment would make excellent quarters for the time being. The little zit didn't seem like he had made much friends.

Friends. As if he were one to judge the boy for being holed up in his room with a stack of World of Warcraft books, a Gameboy, and a copy of Maxim. Jeff had no friends. He had no family. He had no one. A killer was not allowed those luxuries. And he didn't want them. People lied. People hurt you, they abused you and your mind and your spirit until you crumbled and broke. He didn't need them.

Except maybe he did. Maybe he was feeling lonely. Maybe he wanted someone to at least sit by, silently taking in the world around them. He had tried that with Jane, but she was an idiot and annoying. So she was told to fuck off and given a nasty cut from his blade. He didn't try much after that and he didn't quite want to. Except tonight. He needed someone tonight.

Or something. A bottle could be his friend tonight. There was a gas station down the road. Jeff glanced at the clock. It was about midnight. He would walk and see if it were open. A shower beforehand, though.

It had been a while since he was able to cleanse himself in a warm shower. It was amusing to see the blood dripping down his body and swirling down the drain. Turned pink and thin from water dilution, it was a while before the water ran clear. He made use of the shampoo and conditioner and body wash, pleased that he had this luxury. The bathroom was warm and the mirror fogged when he finally stepped out, not bothering to wrap a towel around himself.

He had to step over the gutted body to throw his clothes in the washer. He paid no mind the cracked bones and ripped skin and bits of gore splattered around, instead borrowing boxers and a pair of black skinny jeans, socks, a wife beater, and a white hoody. The hoody was slightly too big, but he didn't mind. It was just nice to have clean clothes.

It was slightly chilly out, just now getting out of the cold season. He could see the moon when he tilted his head up to look at the sky, but the stars were hidden by the glare of street lights and the muggy air that drifted from the larger city nearby. He hadn't seen stars since his brief stay in the woods. That had been interesting and he had almost died. But it had been worth it for the quiet and the rest. He would not be going back, however.

And there it was ahead of him, glowing bright with an empty parking lot. Perfectly dead. Jeff laughed to himself. This was almost like the beginning of a horror movie. But, no, his blood lust was sated for the night. He wouldn't kill for the next several hours, more so if he could resist like he needed to if he wanted a bit of a rest.

He could hear his footsteps echoing through the parking lot and he slowed as he spotted the lone figure sitting in front of the store, a cigarette hanging from their lips like a tiny beacon. Jeff slowed even more but continued. Drawing up closer, he could see that it was a girl. Maybe about his age, maybe not. Pale skin, hair bleached white, almond shaped eyes of emerald that stared ahead in a pensive expression. She was wearing a polo. She did not look like the polo wearing sort. An employee then. The sole employee for the long and dull night.

Jeff tugged his hood up and brushed his hair forward to fall next to his cheeks. It wasn't much to hide his beautiful grin, but it did help a bit. Her eyes flicked up as he walked toward her, but her expression did not change. Rather, an air of annoyance radiated from the girl. She sighed and went to tamp out her cigarette, but Jeff held up a hand.

"It's fine, I can wait," his gravely voice managed. No words to another but to order them asleep and ask the question that had but one answer. His voice was rusty and he was almost anxious at the thought of talking to another without trying to kill them.

"Thank you," she told him, a warmth crept into her voice. It was a voice that could only be described as cute. Slightly high pitched, feminine. Like an anime character.

"Do you mind if I sit down next to you?" Jeff asked her.

A smile danced across her face and she took a drag of the cigarette, patting the ground beside her. "No, it's fine. Join me."

He sat next to her, slightly away and in the shadows of a pillar. "Are you working by yourself?"

"Yup," she said with a sigh, the 'p' made into a popping noise. "Would you like a smoke? They're American Spirits. Lovely menthol flavor."

"Yeah, sure, thanks." He wasn't the biggest fan of menthol, but a cigarette would do him wonders. He handed the green lighter back to her after he lit up. "You get lonely working all by yourself?"

"Sometimes. Tonight I'm lonely. It's obnoxiously dead and I could use the company. But…I usually prefer to be by myself." She sighed and titled her head back to gaze at the sky. "Are you new here or just visiting? I haven't seen you before."

"Just…just visiting. I'm Jeff."

"Luna. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Same," he mumbled, unsure of how to proceed. He remembered his reason for coming and rested his head against the pillar, smoking quietly for a few moments. "Oh, yes…do you sell beer here? I wasn't sure, but I figured it would be worth the walk to find out if you did."

"Closest place that sells beer is Palomar," she told him automatically. "And they stop after two in the morning."

"Damn. I'll have to get something else then."

They were quiet, the two of them as they smoked and stared out at the empty parking lot and murky sky. But it was enough for Jeff, at least for the moment. He was surprised she had let him to sit down with her. Jeff glanced over to take in her hooded eyes, slightly pursed lips, and pensive expression. Pretty, but there was something cold in her demeanor. Something that just said "back the fuck off I do not want your advances." Not specifically to him even. Just to the world, perhaps. He could understand that.

"How old are you?" she asked suddenly. "You don't even look twenty one."

His smile stretched up. "I'm twenty, actually. I was hoping you would let it slide."

She snickered. "Store policy makes us id if a person looks under forty…but I probably would have let it slide. I really don't give that many fu-bothers about it. I figure if a person wants a drink badly enough, they'll find a way to get it. And the cops don't care enough to do a check on third shift. Neither does my manager."

She had stopped herself from saying "fuck." A habit from working at the store, he supposed. "It would have been appreciated. How old are you?"

"Twenty one." There was a hint of pride in her voice. "Just had my birthday in January."

"Oh yeah? Had fun with all your friends? Drunk off your ass the whole night?" A tone of bitterness sounded through that. Did he have envy for those who could do such things? Yes. And he hated to admit it.

There was a few passing moments of silence and she shook her head, eyes far away. "No…no. I…I don't have friends. I don't like people. I stayed home and drank wine and watched Lord of the Rings all night. It was fun, though. For me."

"You don't like people?" he asked, the question popping out before he could stop himself.

"No, I don't. People get under my skin. Annoying. So annoying. Grimy gits that think they own the world and can walk over all in their path." Anger in that answer. "It's not to say that there aren't people that I like. There are one or two, but most…no. I have a hard time dealing with others."

"I suppose it's a good thing you work third shift then," he said quietly. "Am I bothering you?"

"Oh." She started and blinked, shaking her head, ashes falling from the cigarette. "Oh, no, no. I wanted the company. It's fine. You're not bothering me."

"I don't like people either," Jeff told her, the cigarette slipping through his fingers and resting onto the pavement, smoked down to the filter.

"You're right about how annoying they are. They'll take everything they have from you and act like they're doing you an honor. Liars and bullies and cretins."

She smiled and he could see that she had dimples. "Exactly. I do hope you have a job as well that allows minimal contact with others then."

"I do," he told her, a smirk wanting to form. His hand dipped into the pocket of his freshly washed hoody, tracing the blade lightly. She didn't push for details and he liked that.

"How long are you staying, Jeff?" she asked, dropping her own cigarette and standing up.

He was distracted momentarily by her stretching. She was a small and slender girl, but the soft curves she had were delectable looking to him."I…I'm not sure yet. It's undecided."

She shrugged and opened the door for him, a little exaggerated bow, emerald eyes flashing with a bit of humor. Jeff chuckled and stepped into the gas station. It was remarkably clean and tidy, but the lights were too bright for him. It's a wonder she didn't have a constant headache. Pop music played quietly through frazzled speakers overhead and he left her to roam the store for a minute. He felt her eyes follow him as she stood behind the register, elbows leaning against the counter and chin propped up and resting on her palm. A quiet and studious look. Not afraid he would steal or, rather, uncaring if he did steal.

He took a bag of chips from a rack and a bottle of water that was supposedly blueberry flavored. Blue. Blue eyes. He needed to get rid of the body when he got back to the apartment. There was a convenient pond nearby he could toss it in. Yes, that would work for now.

"Do you always think so hard about the water you choose?" she asked as she rang him up, nimble fingers dancing across the keys of the register. There was a teasing lit in her voice that he decided he liked.

"It usually takes five more minutes," he said, his smile stretching up.

She let out a laugh and he decided that he liked that too. She didn't raise a brow or make a comment as he handed over the money to pay for the food, his head lowered so she couldn't peer into his eyes or glimpse his glasgow grin. He appraised his hands for a brief second. Scarred, callused, unnaturally white, bits of blood underneath his fingernails. They were the hands of a killer. They were beautiful hands.

Her hand brushed against his as she handed him the bag. Small, pale, a freckle just underneath the knuckle of her pinky, and a light scar running down her thumb. He noticed for the first time the two matching leather bracelets encircling her wrists. Did they hide tattoos? Or something else?

She let out another laugh, lower this time. He had focused too long on her wrists and she had noticed. The laugh sent a pleasant chill down his spine. She unbuttoned one of the bracelets and offered her wrist to him, a grin on her face that could have matched his own. There was deep scar there on the otherwise unblemished surface. A cutter then.

"No, I'm not a cutter," she told him, the grin still on her face. "Sadistic bullies in high school. Second month of my freshmen year. They drug me into the woods for hazing and a 'sacrifice.' That was when I finally decided that people weren't worth my time."

The bracelet was snapped back into place, hiding it securely from the world. The grin dissipated and she looked a bit tired. "Have a good night, Jeff."

He nodded. "You as well."

Jeff began to walk out the store, but paused once more by the door at the sound of her voice. "I work tomorrow night as well. You can come back if you want, even if it's just to hang for a bit and not buy anything."

He laughed and walked out the store, a hand raised in a wave goodbye and acknowledgement of the statement, his sleeve slipping down to show his own scars.


End file.
